


Bombs Bursting in Air

by lackluster_lexicon



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Fluff, Fourth of July, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 15:18:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11671731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lackluster_lexicon/pseuds/lackluster_lexicon
Summary: Sam and Steve watch the Independence Day fireworks in DC for Steve's birthday.





	Bombs Bursting in Air

**Author's Note:**

> Very very light, brief mentions of PTSD. 100% fluff.

“You’re sure you’re good?”

“Yes, Sam, I’m sure. Are you?”

“Am I what, sure that you’re good?”

“Are  _you_ good?”

Sam didn’t answer immediately. He quirked his lips, tapped his fingers against his knee, and then – 

“Yeah, I’m good. I know about what I’m getting into with fireworks.”

Steve smiled. “And you have both feet on the ground.”

“Yeah.”

“With me.”

“Mmm.”

“On your left.”

Sam laughed and visibly relaxed, seemingly satisfied that they were both ready for the Fourth of July spectacle ahead. They had found a nice park space along the East River, where the Macy’s show was set to begin any minute now, and even amid the children counting down from three repeatedly and teenagers throwing bang-snaps at the sidewalks, Steve felt comfortably at peace – even excited! – to watch a proper fireworks show for the first time in quite a while. He watched a gaggle of children run past, all of them wearing glow sticks everywhere a glow stick can possibly be worn, and then leaned over to press his shoulder to Sam’s.

“What’s your favorite firework?”

Sam snorted as he laughed, as though he was humoring Steve by answering, but Steve didn’t miss Sam leaning back into him.

“Chrysanthemums.”

Steve turned to look at Sam. They were almost nose-to-nose – all the better for Sam to read the  _and which ones are those?_  question on Steve’s face.

“They’re the ones that leave the trails – I’ll point it out to you when it happens.”

And as if on cue, the first fireworks fired, prompting both of them to turn their attention to the river. The sky was overcast, lending an almost eerie quality to the pyrotechnics as the light bounced back to earth and the clouds lit up gold, green, and red.

“Those are my favorites,” Steve said, as a peony firework changed colors from red to blue to green.

“They would be,” Sam said fondly.

They watched, shoulder-to-shoulder, for almost ten minutes before they heard a viciously loud whistle almost directly behind them; Sam started and clapped his hand over Steve’s, and then Steve himself flinched as something exploded right over their heads. They turned as one to see a trio of teenagers running from the scene of their crime, followed closely by a couple of cops who had been patrolling the river anticipating contraband. Steve meant to watch to see if the officers caught the kids, but when Sam dropped his forehead to Steve’s shoulder, Steve immediately turned his attention to him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam mumbled into Steve’s bicep. Then he sat up and added, “Sorry. I’m fine.”

Sam’s hand was still on top of Steve’s. Steve spread his fingers to lace Sam’s through them, then gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I fucking hate those,” Sam said. “The whistling ones. And skyrockets, actually, so put ‘em together…”

Sam trailed off, shaking his head. He didn’t look back over the river, but he wasn’t looking at Steve, either, at least not in the eye; he seemed to be doggedly focused on a point somewhere behind Steve’s left hip.

“Sounded like a mortar,” Steve said.

Sam closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, he was looking Steve in the eye.

“Shouldn’t be any more of those, though, with the cops around,” Sam said, the  _right?_  left unspoken but clear.

“I’ll beat ‘em up myself if someone fires anything else off,” Steve promised.

Sam nodded, and they resumed their shoulder-to-shoulder seating to watch the rest of the show. They remained seated even after the final echoes of the finale died away, at which point Sam tugged Steve’s hand from Steve’s knee onto his own.

“Happy birthday, man.”

Steve smiled and bumped his elbow against Sam’s.

“Thanks, Sam. And Happy Fourth.”


End file.
